


Corruption is a Killer

by WarAgainstReality



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Psychological Torture, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarAgainstReality/pseuds/WarAgainstReality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of time to season 5 in Lucifer's POV. How was he before the Mark? What was the Cage like? What effect did the Mark have on him? There are two sides to every story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corruption is a Killer

All I could feel was a blinding pain. My arm burned with all the power of holy fire. Father didn't let go even when I tried to flinch away. I could feel Michael twitch uncomfortably as my silent screams echoed through our connection. When father finally pulled away there was a mark burned deep into my flesh.

"Hello, auntie," I glared down at the offending mark. "Enjoy your cage, you soul sucking bitch."

I felt a strange squirming sensation as she thrashed against her chains. My feathers bristled and the hairs on the back of my vessel's neck stood on end. I felt a strange, cold sensation cover me as I tried not to panic. Somehow, I was covered in ice.

Stay calm. Don't panic. It's connected somehow. I have to keep it together. Father trusted me with this responsibility. I can't let him down. It's my job. The Lightbringer is logically the best cage to hold the Darkness.

I felt my brother reach out tentatively through our connection. He sent tendrils of calming grace towards me along with soothing words. The Enochian vibrated through me finally easing the squirming sensation as I flew off to my favorite spot to rest. Father's new garden was his most beautiful creation yet. 

Michael told me that father planned to fill all of his creation with creatures of different shapes, sizes, colors, and abilities. The oceans would team with life and the skies would give birth to more winged creatures. We wouldn't be alone in this world anymore. We were to have even more siblings. I sat in the garden, his original creation on earth, for six days and watched.

I watched in awe as father took the dirt from the ground and fashioned it into a creature in his image. Later, when the creature cried out in loneliness, father took a piece from it and created it a mate. Father called him man and man called the other woman. They were curious creatures and I wanted to know more.

That's why I frequented the garden now. I watched the strange creatures live from afar. They never knew I was there. I hardly ever left.  
......................................  
Michael is displeased as am I but in a different way. Mankind is a disaster. They wear father's form but fail in every way imaginable. They were given one simple rule: do not eat the fruit from that tree. I met one of these creatures and it's first request was for me, as the taller being, to give it to her. She didn't even question who or what I was.

I felt a slither of anger ignite in my grace. Call it petty but I gave her what she asked for. Later she would claim I spun a complicated web of lies to entice her into this terrible betrayal. I do not lie. Michael doesn't believe me.

My siblings are angry with me. I am called the deceiver. Father has not spoken to me since my early days as a cage. The others distance themselves from me as much as is possible with our species. The rage bubbles deeper. I am not at fault.

Father threw the humans out of the garden for their betrayal. Clearly, they blame me. Only the woman knows the truth. The humans planted the idea straight into my siblings' heads. We were told to love these lying, ridiculous creatures more than anything else. I would rather watch them burn...at least her.

As I stewed on this hatred, my thoughts grew darker and darker. These humans made my true form quiver with disgust. They were a blasphemy, a dark mark on father's very name. How could I love these abominations more than my beloved father? More than my brother? 

"Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust," I murmured as I easily tracked the humans down. They had procreated since their big sin and the children had reached adulthood.

I could sense the darkness inside trying to take over so I came up with a compromise. The Mark, I now realized, could be passed on. I could pass my corruption, at least a large portion of it, to the weak and unsuspecting offspring of my greatest enemy. I could become me again. I was not foolish enough to believe that this desire to maim and destroy were truly mine.  
....................................  
Cain took the Mark in his brother's stead...he could not handle its power. I could not take it back. It was too late for him and his brother. It was a nasty glance into my possible future. I had to talk to Michael. 

He had to understand that this wasn't by choice. I need his help. I do not want to become a kinslayer. I do not want to become a monster. The beast inside snapped and snarled against its chains. By now they were no more than simple leather bands hardly capable of holding it back. I did not want to lose control.

"Brother, help me," I whispered. "I don't know what to do. I'm not myself and I have seen my future. I need your help. I-I'm afraid."

"It's rather poetic," Michael's voice gave nothing away. "It ends like it begins. I do as father commands. This is for the good of all."

Before I could say a word, it was far too late. The wind rushed around me as my home disappeared. The earth was getting closer and closer. I could feel Michael behind me guiding me but I could not hear him. A moment later I felt a blinding pain and all I could see was darkness.

I was a comet lighting up the emptiness around me. There was no sound, no beings, no anything. I was alone. My mind was silent; the voices from my brothers and sisters gone. For the first time in my life, I was completely alone. I let out a wordless scream of anguish. There was no one around to hear.

I beat my wings against my fall but to no avail. They hung limp and useless at my sides. Each useless beat felt like holy fire licking up my back. Perhaps it was. It was not beyond father's cruelty. 

My wings were splintered and broken. As I hit the ground, I felt every inch of my true form shudder against the pain. My mind was clear for the first time since Amara was locked inside of me. I was alone and I was fallen. The Cage had become caged.  
.......................................  
"Father, please," I cried out. "I don't know what to do. You know that the woman spread those lies. I was innocent. I bear this Mark and it corrupts me. Help me. I did not do this. I need you. Please."

The world around me remained silent for an immeasurable amount of time. The silence pressed on me like a vice wrestling the air from listless lungs. Alone. Since the beginning I had never been alone. Even father's presence was gone.

Soon after I discovered exactly what this cage was: a torture chamber. I watched over and over again as my siblings turned on me. I refused to fight back. Each time they toyed with me like a cat with a mouse. The death was slow and painful. I would regain consciousness just to start over again.

They said I deserved it. Father's creations were perfect and I corrupted them. I corrupted the first's offspring and created the act of kinslaying on earth. I was a monster worse than what I was meant to contain. At least she gave their spirits peace.

I didn't know which I preferred: the complete deafening isolation I knew I caused or the torture and rage of those I loved most. Father and Michael appeared the most. Gabriel came in as a close second. 

"Just walk away. Walk off The chessboard, Michael. I don't want to fight you. I don't want to fight any of you. It's just me in here. Just stop. I'm not a monster. Stop calling me a monster. I'm not a monster."

The worst thing is that the monster inside had went silent. There was nothing to fight against. There was only me and my torture. Each day I prayed for death. Each day I was disappointed when it all started again.  
....................................  
"Father?" I whispered through what was left of my face as he stood over me. "Why did you do this to me? Why did you leave me here to suffer? I always tried to be a good son. I loved you more than anything else. You had to know this would happen. If this is how it ends, why did you even make me? Strike me down if I'm such an abomination. Do anything just don't leave me here."

The man above me smirked as he carved out another chunk from my form, "That would be too good for you. You will wait here and suffer. When the time comes you will fight for your freedom. You and Michael a fight to the death. Winner takes theworld. For all of eternity people will see exactly what you are: the serpent, the deceiver, satan. You will be the enemy of good itself. You are a monster, Lucifer, and everyone everywhere will know."

"Then you are the monster," I spat. "You created me as a beacon of light and then sullied me with a darkness I could not contain. You locked me away when I came begging for help and guidance. You avoided me long before that. This is all your fault. If I am Satan then you are the Darkness. Perhaps she was an innocent once too. You destroy those who don't fit into your little categories."

I stopped speaking after that. I had nothing more to say. I began to fight. I couldn't take the pain any more. Why shouldn't I fight them? They called me monster. 

They mocked me from above and spread lies about me while I suffered. They didn't love me. No one did and father was quite sure, as he frequently mentioned, that they never would. I wasn't an angel any more. I was something born in ice and hellfire under the constant slice of a knife. Perhaps that's what a devil is.

As the days went by my tormentors came less and less often. Perhaps it had something to do with the more and more constant clicks surrounding my prison. Perhaps that's why I started to care less and less. I hardly noticed the dark presence polluting my mind more each day. After all, it was me. It always had been. I had never been separated from that feeling or this cage. It had always been an illusion.

The one and only sound I had ever heard was a few months ago. The proclamation that echoed through my entire being as that very first click rebounded off the invisible walls around me.

"Dean Winchester has been saved!"  
...................................  
This is what I was built for. It didn't matter that I didn't want it. I either gain power or I die. Michael would not show mercy. He had never showed me mercy. He obeyed father to the letter. It made my blood boil.

Father made this happen. It seemed logical therefore that each and every causality in this war should be on him. Their blood was on his hands, I reasoned. It wasn't on me or this Nick I was wearing. We were only playing the parts he wrote for us like good little marionettes. 

My true vessel was just within my reach. Sometimes I visited him. He was a lot like the me I imagined from long ago. He was curious and desperate to understand everything. He was unflinchingly loyal and was ostracized for being different despite it being a defining characteristic beyond his control.

"I will never lie to you. I'll never trick you. But you will let me in," I smiled gently at him after discarding his lost love's face.

"Why me?"

"Because it had to be you. It always had to be you," I felt a tightness in my borrowed throat but masked it as well as I could. "It's not something I could ever adequately explain. It is the only thing I have been sure of in a thousand lifetimes."

I knew I didn't have much time to wait. He was too selfsacrificing. I would give him time. In less than a year we would find ourselves in Detroit. We would enter as two and exit as one. The devil and the boy king safe and sound long after the rest of the world burned. It was father's idea after all. The boy's pure soul was blindingly beautiful. It lit up the darkness inside my mind like a comet.

All I had to do was fight Michael. It was just like old times. This time I wouldn't sit back and let him slice me apart. I had long since given up on him learning the concept of mercy. Any love I imagined was just that: imaginary. He didn't see me as a brother.  
................................  
"Are you ready?" Michael asked his face made out of stone.

As soon as I saw his grace shining in front of me another part of me started struggling to break free. This wasn't right.

"As I'll ever be. A part of me wishes we didn't have to do this," I met his eyes and tried to see straight into his mind. That was something I should be able to do.

"I have no choice, after what you did" I interuppted him sharply, "What I did? What if it's not my fault?" 

"What is that supposed to mean? "

"Think about it. Dad made everything. Which means he made me who I am! God wanted the Devil," I gritted my teeth about the sheer unfairness of it all.

"So?"

"So why? And why make us fight? I just can't figure out the point. We're going to kill each other. And for what? One of Dad's tests," I hissed out the words remembering his snarling face as I begged for the simple mercy of death. "And we don't even know the answer. We're brothers. Let's just walk off the chessboard."

"I'm sorry. I-I can't do that. I'm a good son, and I have my orders."

"But you don't have to follow them. You didn't have to follow them then either. This is our second chance, brother."

"What, you think I'm gonna rebel? Now? I'm not like you."

"Please, Michael-" he cut me off with a derisive snarl. "You know, you haven't changed a bit, little brother. Always blaming everybody but yourself. We were together. We were happy. But you betrayed me, all of us, and you made our father leave."

"No one makes Dad do anything. He is doing this to us. You don't understand. You've never understood."

"You're a monster, Lucifer. And I have to kill you," I heard those words repeated with a different name and held more tightly to the broken boy's soul inside of me. I wasn't the only one with a dick for a brother.

"If that's the way it's got to be... Then I'd like to see you try," I braced myself and tried to shield the boy. Just because fate chose him didn't mean that I had to be cruel.  
.....................................  
That moment was when his brother decided to charge in half cocked with a ragtag team of allies: an old drunk and a simple seraph. He at least was willing to fight for his brother even if his father demanded the opposite. I had intentionally spared this man for Sam's sake. Now he was becoming a problem.

I tried to warn him away but he just continued to speak to his brother. I stayed my hand. I allowed him his peace until his angel moltoved my brother. After that I felt an uncontrollable spike of anger. Soon the seraph lay in pieces, the old drunk's neck was snapped, and the hunter layed against his precious car surrounded and impaled by shattered glass.

I punched him over and over again until his face is swollen and bleeding. He doesn't protect himself. He doesn't fight back. A little part of me tries to shrink back. Suddenly he grabs me, or was it meant to be Sam, by the jacket.

"Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you," I continued to punch him but I could feel a strange sense of wrong there. "I'm not gonna leave you."

I drew back for another punch when the sunlight glinting off his precious car drew my eye. I can see my reflection and the intense hatred and darkness. A small green army man sticks out of the ashtray. 

Before I can prepare, I'm assaulted with a lifetime worth of memories: that army man Sam placed there years ago, the legos in the vents that rattle when the AC is on, the two of them carving their initials into it, thousands of small moments good and bad the two of them have shared. A lifetime full of loss and pain made bearable by the mere existence of the other. I let go.

"Do it,Sam," I whispered to him inside of his head. "I don't want to be this. I didn't used to be a monster. I used to be exactly like you. The only difference is that no one fought for me. Be a hero. Destroy the devil. I won't stop you, I promise. It's what has to be done. I can't control it."

"What?" Sam is too surprised by the sudden words and control of his body to be very articulate.

"Thank you, Sam," I murmured as I urged his hand towards the rings in his pocket. "I had forgotten what love looked like."  
.....................................  
Michael stared at the two of us in shock as Sam broke eye contact with his brother and braced himself to fall. I stiffened and I felt his mind soften slightly in response. I could tell he understood and that there was no malice in his actions despite what I had done. He knew what it was like to be out of control.

Michael reached forward to grab ahold of his, my, jacket. I don't know whether it was to save him, continue the fight, or if that strange expression meant he had finally seen what I had been trying to show him all along. I didn't have time to muse over it for long. Soon Sam had spread his arms and the four of us began to fall. 

Michael began to panic as he fell deep into the pit. I mentally nudged Sam and he allowed me to take control for now. I reached out and grabbed my brother's hand tight in my own. I pulled him closer so he would be able to hear me over the rushing wind.

"It's okay, brother," I murmured. "The worst part is being alone. I won't leave you."

I gave Sam back control after that. Michael didn't say a word. He also didn't let go. I tried to hide myself in Sam's memories. The horrors to come were too much to deal with now. I braced myself for the painful fall but Michael must have cushioned it with his wings.

"Sam?" Michael finally spoke up long after we had hit the hard ground. "You took control from my brother. How did you do it?"

"I didn't," he murmured. "He gave me control because he couldn't control it, whatever it is, anymore. He said he was just like I was, out of control, but no one was willing to fight for him."

"I suppose one cannot be both a good son and a good brother," Michael muttered.  
...................................

I flinched back as the portal to the cage closed. I felt as I was ripped from Sam's body and enclosed alone in the darkness once more. It was happening again. I let out an animal screech. 

"No, no," I paced in a panic. "I was wrong. I can't-"

I felt calming tendrils of grace graze the edge of my mind. I clung to it as the emptiness changed again. This time Gabriel came adorned with an angel blade through the gut and an even bigger vendetta. I couldn't fight back. Even corrupted I had trouble killing my favorite little brother.

"So, bro," Gabriel smirked. "You killed me, huh? What a dick move. I guess I'm just gonna have to return the favor. The only problem is you can't stay dead. I guess I'll just have to keep trying."

I tried to keep silent but it was impossible. He snapped his fingers and a dozen angel blades appeared suspended in the air. He waggled his eyebrows with a wicked grin and the blades began to slash.

"It's play time."

Michael reached out in a panic as he tried to find his brother in the darkness. He knew just how tough Lucifer was. Anything that made him scream like that had to be quite terrible. He could sense his brother and just how different his state of mind was. He was back the way he was before the battle. His true brother. 

"What have I done?" Michael murmured in horror as his brother appeared in front of him burning through Nick.

He could hear his brother's screams. This was why he was screaming. Michael hissed in pain as the fake Lucifer cut into him both physically and verbally. The cage and hell lived up to their names.


End file.
